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Eat Your Heart Out: A Romance Charity Anthology

Page 58

by Skye MacKinnon

If she had to guess, she'd say that Bradshaw was the kind of man who would prefer it if he could hide everything deep in the flowerbeds and never have to think about it again. But that wasn't going to keep his workers happy, especially when so many of them were dryads who had a deep connection with their tether-plants. She wasn't going to pretend that she completely understood when she wasn't a dryad herself, but she imagined that it was similar to how she felt about her inner bird. There was a connection she wouldn't be able to explain to anyone who wasn't a shifter themselves. If someone tried to take it from her, she'd be just as protective about it as the dryads were being about their plants.

  Instead of saying as much, she gritted her teeth and faced the boss who she felt was failing his workers. "Can you at least tell me who to talk to about the thefts last night?" she asked.

  "Baxter Heirloom. You'll find him in sector two," Bradshaw responded.

  "Do you have a map?" She had one already, but she wanted to know whether or not he was going to be helpful or not. She didn't think it was purposeful, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to be frustrating.

  "I don't know. Maybe around here somewhere..." He searched through the papers, muttering to himself and trying to come up with the item.

  She bit her tongue and tried to resist the urge to tell him she had one already, especially as she hoped he would have more information on it, including any of the other thefts that hadn't been reported to the High Council. She didn't need to spend any longer in this office to know that there would be more than either hadn't been reported by Bradshaw or to him. Perhaps his staff had as little faith in him as she did.

  "Ah, here you go." He brandished a crumpled up piece of paper barely big enough to hold a shopping list, never mind a map.

  She forced a smile onto her face and took it from him. "Thank you."

  "I'm glad you're here." Relief coursed over his face.

  It struck her that perhaps he wasn't as incompetent as he seemed, and it was just that he was stressed out about the situation. She certainly would be in his situation.

  "It's best that I don't waste more time," she said as she scraped back her chair. "I'll get to the bottom of the matter as quickly as I can."

  "Please do." There was almost a begging note in his voice, but she chose to ignore it.

  Instead, she smiled and made her way out of the office and back into the main greenhouse. It was only then that she noticed how drab the office had been. How could Bradshaw work in a place as beautiful as this and not want at least one plant in his workspace? If she worked here, she'd be setting up her desk in the middle of all the living things.

  The urge to shift came over her as she took in the sights and smells. She didn't get many chances to fly around anywhere like this. A lot of humans could be unobservant, but the risk of them noticing a hummingbird flitting from one plant to another. But this place was different. Everyone amongst the staff, even down to the lowest position, was a paranormal of some kind. From the staff profiles she'd seen, the majority were dryads of one kind or another, along with a variety of small shifter types and a couple of witches.

  Jenna glanced down at the map, finding the right sector so she could go and find Baxter Heirloom. Hopefully, he'd be able to give her a better introduction to the greenhouses than his boss had done. Though that wasn't going to be hard.

  Chapter 3

  Baxter

  Baxter hummed to himself as he tended to a small tomato plant. It was from one of the seeds from his tether-plant, though that didn't give him a direct connection to it. He wasn't entirely sure how that worked. Many dryads had tried to find a scientific method of determining how tether-plants worked, but they hadn't gotten any answers. To him, it was simple. The only answer was magic.

  "Mr Heirloom?" a pleasant female voice said from behind him.

  He paused in what he was doing, trying to make sense of the strange feeling inside him. No one he'd ever met before had elicited such a response.

  "That's me," he responded, turning around and taking in the woman standing in the middle of his section.

  Her long dark hair fell in waves around her face, perfectly complimenting her tanned skin. She wore a practical outfit that spoke of seriousness except for the electric blue shirt she wore with it. He briefly wondered if that was a reflection of what she saw as her true nature, he'd known a lot of shifters who used their clothing to reveal aspects of their animal. He dismissed the notion after only a few moments of contemplation. It didn't matter why she was wearing it, asking about her paranormal abilities was considered rude, especially when he'd only just met her.

  She trailed her gaze up and down the length of his body, taking in every part of him.

  "Do you like what you see?" he quipped.

  She raised an eyebrow. "I never trust looks alone, they can be deceiving," she responded, a small glint of amusement in her eye. "Mr Bradshaw said you'd be able to bring me up to date on the latest thefts," she said, cutting right to the chase.

  He liked that in a woman. Or anyone, for that matter.

  "I'm glad he at least paid attention to who walked into his office this morning. Did he send you to Sharon too?"

  She frowned, a clearly dissatisfied expression marring her features. It seemed that his boss hadn't made the best impression on the woman.

  "No, he didn't mention her. Perhaps you could introduce me once you've filled me in?"

  "I can, but that would require me to know your name," he pointed out.

  A slight blush crept over her cheeks. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

  "But very easy to remedy for you," he countered. "I can even turn around if you want me to? That way we can pretend that the first thing you did was tell me your name."

  For a moment, it appeared as if she was going to say yes, and in a way, he hoped she would if she'd feel more at ease.

  Instead, she held out her hand for him to shake. "Jenna Sunangel, but you can call me Jenna."

  "Baxter," he responded, taking her hand in his.

  The moment their skin touched, a jolt of something he couldn't name went through him, as if something had snapped into place that hadn't been there before.

  A small voice in the back of his head whispered about the mating bond was causing it, and that the woman in front of him was the one the universe had selected for him as his fated mate. When he'd asked her after her mating, Lia had said that the whole thing was overwhelming, wonderful, and nothing like she'd expected, which at least gave him something to work on until he could get away from the enchanting woman in front of him to call his childhood friend and quiz her about it more.

  "Sorry," Jenna muttered, pulling her hand back from his. No doubt she'd realised that they'd been standing there for several minutes not doing anything more than staring at their hands and not saying anything.

  That was a good sign that the two of them were mates as far as he was concerned, though he wasn't about to start suggesting it to her before he'd examined the feeling further himself. It wasn't wise to rush these things, especially with someone he'd just met.

  "I'm here to investigate the thefts," she said, straightening up and trying to appear as if she hadn't been affected by their shared touch. The flush on her cheeks and the interest in her eyes suggested a different story.

  "I guessed. We weren't due to have any new starters this week."

  She cocked her head to the side in a genuinely intrigued manner. "Do I look like the botanist type?"

  Slowly, he looked her up and down in much the same way she'd done to him. She was petite, which would probably suggest she was some kind of smaller shifter, though he'd never been very good at telling species just by looking at someone, so it wouldn't surprise him if he was wrong.

  "I don't know."

  She chuckled. "How can you not know? Don't you work here?"

  He shrugged. "Botanists don't have a certain look," he pointed out. "Unless you count rips in their clothes and dirty fingernails from the soil." As he said it, he realised that
probably wasn't the best way to impress her and hid his hands behind his back.

  "Well, I have no problem getting..." She paused, a coy smile twisting at her lips. "Dirty."

  "That can be arranged. There's plenty of dirt around." He waved his hands around the greenhouse.

  "I hope to investigate it in as much detail as possible." The way she looked at him suggested that she was thinking about more than just the soil, but he didn't want to be too forward and make her uncomfortable, even if he was growing more certain that she was his mate with every passing moment.

  "Is there any way I can help you with your investigation?" He tried to keep his tone teasing, but he wasn't sure that it worked after he remembered that she was here in order to investigate his stolen tomatoes.

  She straightened. "Yes, I'm hoping you can. I need a proper briefing on the thefts, if you don't mind. I did have a meeting with Mr Bradshaw, but..."

  "He was about as useless as a chocolate teacup."

  "Wouldn't the teacup be useful if you wanted to eat chocolate though?"

  "Exactly. Its usefulness depends on what you want it for."

  "So your boss isn't completely ineffective then?" She raised an eyebrow, probably in disbelief. He wasn't sure he blamed her, Bradshaw wasn't the best at making a first impression even on a good day, and this wasn't one of those.

  "No. But in this matter, potentially a little."

  "That's a shame, I'd been hoping to get a much better idea of the situation."

  "I can help with that?" he suggested.

  "Exactly. Which is why I sought you out. Bradshaw suggested you'd be the best one to help me," she said.

  At least that was something. It was good to know that his boss at least paid attention to who was involved with the situation.

  "Then let me fill you in. I can show you my stolen tomatoes, if you want?"

  "It's a little early for a proposition," she quipped.

  "Only if it's unwelcome."

  "Then there's no time for a proposition," she responded. "And you should respect the lady's wish for no more."

  "And are you that lady?"

  "Make me another proposition when you know me better and we'll see."

  He raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. He wasn't about to risk his chance with her by pushing her too far in this moment.

  He cleared his throat, hoping it chased away any lingering temptation to ask her on a date. "If you follow me, I'll show you my plants." He meant the words literally, but couldn't help but feel like there was a certain kind of suggestiveness to them all the same.

  Baxter pushed those thoughts aside and chose to focus on the thefts instead. That was why she was here. She hadn't come specifically to meet with him.

  He needed to remember that and keep it as professional as possible. Even if that was going to prove difficult.

  Chapter 4

  Jenna

  She walked slowly along the small path that snaked its way through the greenhouse. She wasn't sure if it was designed that way, or had come about by accident, but she liked it. The way it moved between the rows of plants made it so she had to stop and appreciate each bed she came across.

  Some of them were only made up of one kind of plant, like Baxter's tomatoes, but others were lush with bright colours and a variety that worked together to create something spectacular.

  She had to ask someone what the greenhouse actually did, other than tend to plants. Most places like this had some other kind of motive, whether it was growing plants for medicines, for agriculture, or even to be entered into horticultural shows.

  Jenna stopped to admire a particularly striking arrangement centred around a bonsai tree. Without meaning to, she turned ever so slightly so she could take a look at what Baxter was doing. She wasn't sure what it was about him that was attracting her in the way it was. He wasn't her usual type, normally, she'd go for men who were more vibrant and flamboyant, whereas Baxter struck her as the kind of steadfast man anyone would be lucky to settle down with.

  Even from this distance, she could see the ripple of muscles beneath his shirt as he looked after his plants with such tender care. Or maybe she was imagining it.

  Whatever the truth of the matter, she was certainly becoming rather hot under the collar when it came to the dryad.

  "Can I help you?" a woman asked.

  Jenna startled, not having expected anyone to come upon her while she was ogling a man she'd only just met. It was highly unprofessional of her, and she had to remember that.

  She turned to face the other woman, who stood with a confused expression on her face. At least it wasn't anger.

  "I'm looking for Sharon Eckles. Do you know where I can find her?" she asked.

  "Right in front of you. Who's asking?" Sharon crossed her arms as she sized Jenna up.

  "Jenna Sunangel," she said for the third time today. It probably wasn't going to be the last time she introduced herself either. "I'm investigating the thefts," she said, holding out her hand.

  "Ah, that's why you're looking at Baxter. You don't think he's guilty, do you?" Sharon asked.

  After a moment, Jenna realised the other woman wasn't going to give her a handshake and dropped her hand down to her side.

  "Do you think he is?" she asked, curious about what his co-worker thought of him. She didn't see Baxter being the thief. Not only was he one of the dryads affected by the crime, but he didn't feel like he was dishonest. Far from it...

  She resisted the urge to shake her head and get rid of the thoughts, mostly because she wasn't foolish enough to think they were going anywhere. It was clear that Baxter Heirloom had planted himself in her head.

  Sharon let out a loud booming laugh. "Baxter? Definitely not. I don't think he has a bad bone in his body. Even that one." She winked.

  "Oh, are the two of you..." Jenna trailed off, hoping the woman would answer and not tell her to mind her own business, even though she probably should.

  "No. It's a shame," Sharon admitted. "But we're not mates, and you know how it is with some people. They realise you're not the one and suddenly you might as well be a green alien from Neptune."

  "Wouldn't they be blue?" Jenna mused offhandedly.

  "What would be blue?"

  "The aliens."

  Sharon shrugged. "I'll let you know if I ever meet one."

  Jenna studied the other woman, trying to work out how serious she was, and how the conversation had gotten so off-topic.

  But one word had stood out from what Sharon had said.

  Mate.

  Could it be?

  She'd never given much thought to who her mate would be, mostly because she knew that if the universe planned for the two of them to meet, then it would happen when it happened. But now she thought about it, maybe it explained the strange way she was feeling about Baxter.

  Or perhaps it was merely wishful thinking that there could be something between them.

  "Can you tell me anything about the thefts?" she asked Sharon, trying to get her investigation back on track. She wasn't being paid to stand around and make eyes at a dryad.

  "What do you know?"

  "It doesn't matter," Jenna said. "I'd rather hear a recollection from you. I often find that things that can help the investigation are left out of reports because of how various people see them, so I like to get first-hand encounters when I talk to the people involved."

  "Hmm. Makes sense. Why don't you come over to my station and we can talk over a pot of nettle tea?" Sharon suggested.

  "That sounds lovely."

  She followed the other woman down one of the paths and to what appeared to be almost a small sitting room positioned amongst the plants. The two sofas appeared to be comfortable, though they had small plants growing around the bottom of them and even up one of the arms. She paused for a moment, wondering if it was safe to sit on either of them.

  "Don't worry, they're specially created for this," Sharon said, presumably having noticed Jenna's hesitation to sit down.
>
  "I'm sorry, it's just not like anything I've seen before."

  "You'll get a lot of that here," Sharon responded. "You won't see it at first, but as soon as the others start inviting you into their offices, you'll find all kinds of wonderful settings."

  "It is very beautiful," she admitted. "Especially with the willow tree. I thought they normally grew around water."

  The long dangling branches hung over the sofas, providing a sense of privacy even though there were no walls.

  "They do. There's a pond on the other side of the trunk." Sharon pointed, and sure enough, there was a small body of water. "But it's also my tether-plant." She reached up and touched one of the branches almost tenderly as if she were reaching out for a child.

  She let the plant go and turned back to a small hut, returning with a flash and two tin mugs. Sharon set them down on the table and began to stew the tea she'd promised.

  Jenna pulled out her notes and flicked through to the page she'd already made up on Sharon. There wasn't much information there, just that she was a dryad and had worked at the greenhouse for several years. It made her an unlikely candidate for the thefts, but Jenna had seen cases where people had suddenly snapped and changed several times already. She couldn't dismiss anyone until she was certain of their innocence.

  She jotted down that Sharon's tether-plant was a willow tree, noting that it would be much easier if she'd been told in advance what plants the dryads were tethered to before she got here. She had a list of the tether-plants that had been stolen from, but not who they corresponded to.

  Sharon handed Jenna one of the tin mugs.

  "Thank you. Has anything been stolen from your tree?" Jenna asked.

  Pain crossed Sharon's features at the question. "They've been cutting the branches and leaving ugly scars." The pain turned to anger in an instant.

  "I didn't know trees could scar."

  Sharon jumped from her feet and headed over to one of the branches, lifting it so Jenna could see.

  She gasped. The gouges revealed the green flesh of the branch.

 

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